One day back in, like, 2011 I was hanging out with Zazz who happens to be my health deficit best friend. We were stuck in traffic on Wilshire Boulevard sitting in The Beast which is my monstrous, black SUV. Zazz said it brought too much attention to him then got his feelings hurt when I told him that he couldn't draw attention if I gave him a pencil and sketchpad. Then I wrote that line down because it was too good to not. He was mad that I wanted a theme song. I told him that every superhero has a theme song. He said that they weren't real. I poked him in the belly and told him that I was real as well as our feelings towards one another.
By the way, I'm Johnny Panic.
Hello. You look great. You smell great,
too. Is that a new shirt? Looks great on you! I'm serious! Anyway,
bringing it back to me. I'm a superhero. I can fly, lift stuff, and,
like, shout loud. I'm also Mr. Steal Yo Chick. I'm kidding! I have a
girl. Her name is Ronica and chances are she'd never date you. I'm
sorry, but she just doesn't feel that way about you. Don't make this
awkward. Don't be mad! Come here. Please? Come here. There ya go.
Bring it in for a hug. Yeah. Feels good, right? Almost...too good?
“Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and
even the X Men to a certain extent have their own songs” I told
him. “Wouldn't it be cool if when I showed up to wreck shit a song
was playing?” Zazz sighed and stared at the top of the car in front
of us. The Beast was so damned high up we couldn't see anything else.
“Whatever song you played would have
to be loud enough to be heard over the sound of you landing and
destroying everything” he said because he's a hater. “Why would
you want danger knowing that you were arriving? That seems
counterproductive.”
“Your face is counterproductive” I
said. He was always trying to stop fun things from being fun. “Have
you ever heard of waxy flexibility?”
“Waxy what?” he asked.